


Sin

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Nipple Licking, Oral Play in a Confessional Booth, Oral Sex, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23834065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: “We can’t do this. It’s a—”“Sin?” Jane interrupted, whilst working to undo the clasp on her strapless bra. “Two-thirds of Americans admit to sinning every day, Lisbon. So, you wouldn’t be any different from the rest of them.” Lisbon said nothing as Jane finally undid the clasp on her bra, the sheer material falling from her chest to rest between them.Set during The Crimson Hat; Jane and Lisbon have a little fun in a confessional booth, after y'know, losing her temper with him.
Relationships: Patrick Jane/Teresa Lisbon
Kudos: 30





	Sin

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that popped into my head after re-watching The Crimson Hat the other day. 
> 
> I obviously own nothing.

Angry, Lisbon yanked Jane by the earlobe into the vacant confessional booth, where she slammed the door behind them both. Inside the small room, Lisbon dropped Jane’s earlobe and backhanded him across the face.

“That’s not in the spirit of your God, Lisbon,” Jane told her, before he pressed his hand against his cheek. “Didn’t your God say something about being kind to one another?” Lisbon rolled her eyes and crossed her arms against her chest, as they sat, pressed shoulder-to-shoulder, against one another.

“Didn’t think you believed in God,” Lisbon replied coolly.

“I don’t,” Jane agreed with her, “but you do.” He brought his hand away from his cheek before he glanced at her. “Isn’t hitting someone in church considered a cardinal sin?”

“Pretty sure I’ll be forgiven,” Lisbon answered, dryly. Jane said nothing in response, and she sighed. She had, of course, missed him but he’d gone off and done unforgivable things in order to snare Red John. Something, she couldn’t very well overlook. With a frown, she shook her head. “Why should I help you?”

“We’re partners?” Jane suggested.

Lisbon couldn’t help but snort. She’d told him the same thing less than twenty minutes ago, when she had said he was supposed to trust her. Then again, what was trust to Patrick Jane? It was clearly a game; something he could win and cheat, regardless of the consequences.

“You also said yes,” Jane reminded her, after a moment of silence, and Lisbon closed her eyes. She had, hadn’t she? Taken the phone from him and agreed to keep his dirty little secret, regardless of how much she—and the team—missed him. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Lisbon. You weren’t meant to see through my rouse.”

“Was anyone?” She asked.

Jane shook his head. “Not really, no.”

She glanced over at him, only to spot his shiner. “Do I want to know?”

“Feigning a breakdown is hard work,” Jane replied with a sigh of his own before he offered up a shrug. “Returning to my life as a conman was bound to ruffle some feathers.”

“How many feathers did you ruffle for that?”

“Ten grand worth.”

Lisbon side-eyed him. “Jane.”

“Lisbon,” he answered, smiling and not for the first-time surrounding Jane, did she wish that murder wasn’t a sin. If she killed him in the confessional, she was almost positive nobody (not even the priest) would have blamed her. Instead of strangling him for his attempt of humor, however, she grabbed him by his lapels and forced his lips to hers. For once, he said nothing as she maneuvered herself onto his lap and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair between her fingers. “Lisbon…” he finally said, after she’d let his lips go. “We shouldn’t…we _can’t_ …”

“Because of Red John?” She asked him.

He nodded. “My whole plan remains contingent on continuing my breakdown, and unfortunately, anything with you doesn’t fit into my breakdown.” Lisbon narrowed her eyes and yanked on his hair, which forced him to yelp in response. “Hey! My hair is still attached to my head.”

“You don’t get to come in here, make plans with me, and then decide to disappear all over again,” she responded. “You also can’t just hand me a burner phone and expect me to be okay with this, Jane! Six months! You were gone six months! No word. No call. No nothing.”

“If I had contacted you, Lisbon, Red John would have—”

She brought her lips to his again before she pulled away. “Red John this. Red John that. God, Jane! I’m starting to think you’re in love with him.” Jane blinked at her once, his expression of surprise, before he flared his nostrils.

“I’m _what_?”

“You heard me,” Lisbon accused. “Nine years, you’ve been chasing after this psychopath. You left me— _us_ —to lure him out of hiding.”

“And that equates to me _loving him_?” Jane asked, his voice rising. Lisbon nodded. “Are you out of your damned mind, woman?” Lisbon opened her mouth again, ready to defend her position, when she felt him pull off her blazer and then, her tank top underneath. Facing him in her black bra, she merely blinked at him. _What the hell?_ “If I loved him, Lisbon, I certainly wouldn’t be doing this,” and before she could ask him what he meant by _this_ , his fingers skimmed the band of her bra. Lisbon said nothing. Jane had a valid point.

“We can’t do this. It’s a—”

“Sin?” Jane interrupted, whilst working to undo the clasp on her strapless bra. “Two-thirds of Americans admit to sinning every day, Lisbon. So, you wouldn’t be any different from the rest of them.” Lisbon said nothing as Jane finally undid the clasp on her bra, the sheer material falling from her chest to rest between them.

She watched, silently, as he bowed his head toward her breasts; his pink, moist tongue circling around her left nipple, until eventually, he pulled the taut peak between his teeth. Closing her eyes, she let out a small whimper at his gentle ministrations. He might have gone years without pleasuring a woman, but it was clear from the way his tongue circled and his teeth pulled at her nipple; he still knew what to do.

Jane said nothing, as he moved from biting gently to sucking on the sensitive peak which had her burying her hands in his hair.

“You alright there?” She answered his question by tugging at his hair, which prompted him to chuckle against her. “I’ll take that as a yes.” She said nothing again, until his mouth moved from one nipple to the next and she let out a guttural moan. “Ssh, Lisbon. Do you want to be caught in this confessional?”

She jerked her nipple out of his mouth.

They couldn’t do this.

What in the hell was she doing? They were friends and partners, not lovers!

“Jane,” she started to apologize, but he quieted her by pressing his lips to hers. Parting her lips slightly, she allowed his tongue to dart into her mouth and suddenly, she could feel his bulging erection pressed up against her. Removing her fingers from his hair, she trailed his neck and chest with a single finger before she moved to place her hand against his erection.

Jane jerked against her, as her hand grabbed the front of his crouch. “You alright there?” She asked him teasingly, before she climbed off his lap and let go of his erection. Jane opened his mouth, probably to complain, when she motioned for him to stand. He cocked his head at her, and she crossed her arms against her chest. “Stand up, Jane. _Now_.”

Without complaint, he stood and in turn, she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants only to yank them down to his ankles. Once stripped of his pants, she pushed him back down onto the bench and she dropped to her knees only to go fishing for his dick. Removing the straining shaft from the opening of his boxer briefs, she marveled at the sight of his length before she took him into her mouth. Swirling her tongue over the tip of his penis, she glanced upwards as he threw his head backwards in response. Listening to his hitched breathing, she continued moving her tongue down his smooth shaft, until she started to suck him off. Bobbing her head, up-and-down, she felt his fingers bury themselves into her hair as he attempted to set the tempo.

Up, down.

Up, down.

Up, down.

She worked to take his entire length into her mouth, the wooden floor uncomfortable against her knees, as she continued to pleasure him with only her mouth and wet tongue. The salty taste of his pre-cum hit her, which forced her toes to curl. Listening to his labored breaths and shallow pants, she knew he was close to completion.

Finally, with one shuttering breath and jerk, he spilled into her mouth.


End file.
